“You’re going to make a really good dad, you know that?”
A blush creeps up my face, and I look down, wanting my dinner to swallow me whole.
“If I don’t mess this whole thing up.” I swallow down the last of my water.
“I can picture you dressing up like a pirate, playing with our kid just to make them smile.” Reagan’s eyes are glassy now. I lean over the table, capturing her lips with mine. It’s easy, soft, but just the connection I need to her right now. To feel like I’m not losing her.
“Thank you, Reagan. Truly.” My voice is soft as I sit back, both of us finishing our meal in comfortable silence. After I pay, Reagan reaches for my hand, and we slowly meander along the pier.
“I needed this, Leo. Tonight. Thank you.”
The words get stuck in my throat.I’ll always show up for you, Reagan. Always.I don’t say it out loud, because it’s a promise I haven’t kept and would be meaningless to her right now. Instead, I pull her into my arms, trying to convey just how much she means to me.
“You’ll be at the appointment tomorrow?” Her words are muffled against my chest.
I pull back, cupping her face in my hands. Her cheeks are cold from the wind blowing off the harbour. Pink cheeks, full lips, sparkling brown eyes. This is the Reagan that I’m used to seeing. One that I don’t want to go back into hiding because of me.
“There’s nowhere else I’d be.”
And it’s a promise I hope like hell I can keep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Reagan
“Is it just going to be you today?” Dr. Thomas's voice is soft as she gets set up for the ultrasound.
“Looks that way.” I can't hide the hurt in my voice. My texts to him go unanswered. Leo's been busier with work these last few weeks. Time with him has been nonexistent. Trying to have a conversation about where we’ll be heading in the next few months hasn’t happened.
“We'll get a good look and then get you on your way.”
Tears wet my eyes as she lifts my gown and puts the cold gel on my belly. The heartbeat echoes in my ears as I try to squash the growing ache filling my body.
This wasn't how this was supposed to be. I wasn't supposed to be doing this all on my own. Leo was supposed to be holding my hand as we navigate parenthood together.
“I'm still concerned about your blood pressure.” She shuts the machine off and places the wand on the cart. “I was hoping by decreasing your stress levels, it'd come down, but I'm going to write you a prescription that should help.”
“Is it safe for the baby?” My hands hold my bump, as if trying to protect them from me.
“Yes, it's perfectly safe. You can start it today, and then I'll see you back here next week to see how you're doing.”
I bite my lip, trying to keep the sob inside that's threatening to escape. I must not be doing a very good job because Dr. Thomas takes my hand in hers.
“It will all be okay, dear. Just try not to stress about it, because that will only make it worse. I'll do everything in my power to make sure you stay healthy and that this sweet baby arrives on time.”
“Thanks, Dr. Thomas.” I wipe away the tears rolling down my face. “At least I have you to make me feel better.”
“You'll be feeling good in no time, and then you'll have a newborn that you'll have no idea what to do with,” she says on a laugh. “Now, go enjoy the rest of the afternoon.” She pats my knee as she exits the room. I blow out a breath, trying to calm my racing mind. Every bad thing that I've read about that could go wrong floats through my head.
But the one thought that sings louder than the rest is that Leo wasn't here today. I've gotten used to having him around. I’ve fallen hard for his laugh, his smile, and the way he always has to be close to me. Harder than I thought possible. But now, it's like the rug has been pulled out from under my feet.
I thought it was going to be the two of us in this together. Looks like I was wrong.
So much fortrying not to stress. It's been hours since I left the doctor, and Leo is just now getting home. I could barely force any dinner down, and it was too cold to rest outside on the roof.
“Reagan? Are you home?” Leo's voice usually causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach, but tonight, it's anger. It's been brewing for hours.
He makes his way into the living room, his posture easy. “How was your day?” He comes in for a kiss, but I throw up my hand, stopping him.
